


don't touch me (i'm a real live wire)

by rottedflowerpits



Series: Drabbles/Tumblr requests [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, barfed feelings galore, ohoho, post season 6 feelings, this was an rp between me and my partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 07:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14995811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottedflowerpits/pseuds/rottedflowerpits
Summary: Because in the end, Keith knew, didn't he?He knew.





	don't touch me (i'm a real live wire)

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone gets the title reference i'll love you 
> 
> but anyway yeah! a little rp between [my partner](http://alacruxe.tumblr.com/) and i. i had tried to write down something to sort through my feelings on my own, but then...well, apparently we were resonating real well together LMAO 
> 
> uhghh time to cry again as i watch black paladins for the billionth time in the dead of night

It was easy to push everything to the back burner for Shiro's sake. 

Keith could barely stand, could barely remember half of what happened before the sun set on what was undeniably a new chapter in his life, and yet Shiro took precedence above all. 

_You should rest too, you know._

_He won't be waking up for a while._

_Tell us about what happened to you, Keith. Tell us about your mother._

Gentle persuasions to get him to slow down and take care of himself. To distract himself. Keith recognized the good intentions in their hesitant forms a mile away, anomalous and yet all too familiar. Keith entertained some of the notions; there wasn't a whole lot to tell them in the end, anyway, but he stretched the truth in some areas and left others wanting for attention. It was the trivial details that he himself could barely remember, anyway. 

Try as he might, and for as awful as he felt, the last few moments leading up to their victory and Lotor's ultimate demise...were fragmented. It was a head rush that railed the front of his skull with a migraine every time he thought too hard on the specifics. 

It was a mindscape colored over in violent, violet hues; Shiro's broken voice laced through the images every so often, making Keith's careful, thoughtful fingers grow stiff and balk in their present-day task with helping Shiro's recovery. 

Keith stared down at Shiro's sleeping form, a form that rested easy on borrowed beds and gathered intel from the help of nearby coalition planets. The decimated castle ship made things inevitably hard, but the help of all they'd done beforehand with their preexisting alliances helped ease the pain. Every planet they landed on to restock and refuel all remembered with tenderness Shiro's past exploits, his popularity.

Keith found himself distracted, catching up on old news through the eyes and mouths of others. He heard all about Shiro and his personality, how it worked when Keith was missing. Unintentional months of being absent with the Blades, but months of separation he ultimately knew were needed.

Because in the end, Keith knew, didn't he? 

He knew. 

But those were the same, small details he refused to allow himself to linger on. Every little movement of Shiro's, every rapidly fluttering eyelash signaling wakefulness, every croak of a shattered voice attempting to string words together, all of it immediately distracted Keith and wrenched him from the turmoil of his own chaotic thoughts. 

Shiro was recovering, becoming whole again, and he needed his other half to do so, and Keith deemed it all too selfish to linger on his own perpetual, drain-circling insecurities. Shiro came first. He always did.

It was a terrible and awful thing to traverse, but the space mall was a necessity in their odd little journey back home. _It really does have everything,_ Pidge had said, returning from her own trip with the necessary parts for better outgoing communication in hand. Keith had originally just planned on letting it go, but he found himself in the smothering atmosphere of sudden alien social interaction whether he liked it or not. 

Shiro guided every motion of his hands, from picking up a spare change of clothing to medicine made from fungi farmed in the darkest corner of the galaxy. _It's supposed to help with everything,_ the alien had said, his two enormous, wide-spaced eyes blinking slowly at Keith. _I don't really know what else to suggest aside from finding one of those healing pods in Galra headquarters._ He laughed at his own joke. Keith threw the GAC on the counter and left. 

Just as Shiro was omnipresent in his thoughts, he was ever-lingering in his physical presence, too. It was irresponsible and even more selfish than focusing on his own trivial thoughts, but Keith had Shiro tucked away with him everywhere he went. In Black's cockpit, in his designated room and space when they had to land and rest for the nights. Shiro was superglued to Keith's side, and thankfully, no one had the heart to try to come between them. 

It gave Keith ample time to focus on something else that wasn't him and his ticking time bomb. He could feel it in his chest, rising to the back of his throat, but Shiro's soft smiles and even quieter words when he roused from restful slumber were more than enough to keep it all at bay. Keith was more than happy to utterly devote himself to the other. 

But Shiro was strong. He always had been, whether he really saw it or not. From back in their days, when he'd been Keith's rock, his stalwart defender, to when Keith had rescued him back on Earth. Shiro held the entire universe and more within his being, and it smiled upon him with a healthy recovery that had come sooner than expected. Shiro was mingling with the others in no time, his residual exhaustion slowly dissipating over time. He grew frustrated over small tasks becoming more than menial with only one arm to call his own, he was happy when the others visited him, and he was warm, when it was just him and Keith. 

Things adopted a small semblance of normalcy, and Keith was eager to dig his claws into the invisible fabrication that had covered them all.

*

How they had survived everything, Keith didn't know; but Krolia had dropped his old clothes off in his room, folded neatly on the dipped, oval bed. It was a hotel room, on a planet that saw a lot of foot traffic of some of the galaxy's richest, and thanks to Voltron, they were able to get in for free and stay a bit. 

Keith donned his old threads hesitantly. It had been literal years for him, since he'd last worn it all. Old gifts from Shiro, suddenly hugging his skin again like a stranger's embrace. It didn't even smell like his own scent at that point either, heralding a different kind of musk than the one he'd grown into. Things like _home_ and the garrison and what they once had felt so far away at that moment, and Keith plucked at the sleeves of his jacket with furrowed brows, old memories washing over him as he let his mind wander. 

The sleeves were a bit short on him, where before, they had been too long. Back then he and Shiro had laughed about it, Shiro mussing his hair and gently reassuring Keith he'd grow into it. Keith had, in the end, but for a while it had stayed at a comical ratio compared to his tiny and lithe frame. Keith hadn't liked the fact that Shiro felt obligated to buy him the smallest of necessities, but they had gradually mutated into something habitual. Shiro had always showed he cared, in so many ways that it made Keith's chest swell and ache. 

Wearing these, it was like relearning how to move with an old lover again. 

In a way, the metaphor didn't really miss the mark. Keith had watched Shiro recover and reintegrate himself with the others, watched him grow comfortable in his own skin again. Keith had watched it all with pride and relieved contentment, but... 

He'd kept himself distanced. He'd been so determined to aid Shiro, to be there for him, that learning how to deal with...all of that, again, after everything, was harder than he'd thought it'd be. Especially when, in the end, his ignored suspicions had been proven right. 

Keith rubbed at the back of his neck, clearing his throat quietly. Either way, it wasn't like he was complaining. He wanted nothing more than to fall back into the same, easy rhythm with Shiro. And it had been easy, easier than ever, to do so. Shiro requested that he and Keith meet in the Black Lion, to escape the chaos of home life with the others and steal a moment for themselves. Keith had agreed, and he made his way slowly to Black, his mind moving itself to the start of the racetrack it was suddenly eager to bolt down. 

There was baggage, and Keith found himself struggling with its weight. It was a growing burden as their set time to go out and about drew near, and Keith nearly suffocated on the insecurities thrumming through his veins at that very moment. It was enough to make his footsteps stumble as he entered Black, and enough to almost make him turn on his heel and go back. 

The hope in Shiro's eyes when he'd requested their little date was enough to break Keith's heart for just fostering the idea, though. 

“You look good.” 

Shiro stepped into the cockpit from the corridor behind, and the look in his eyes told Keith he really did mean it. Keith turned on his heel and swallowed hard, offering Shiro a tense smile. 

“Sorry it took me so long,” Shiro continued, bashfully ducking his head with his palm glued to the back of his neck. “Turns out, pulling the tags off of new clothes one-handed is harder than it looks.” 

Keith rolled his jaw, his expression immediately engulfed by guilt. “I'm sorry,” he started, closing the distance between them. He reached out to help readjust Shiro's top, fingers gently tugging at the fabric. “I should have been around to help. I just...” 

Keith's hands paused, his palms pressed flat to Shiro's chest. He offered more of an afterthought of a touch, his gaze growing distant and directed over Shiro's shoulder. He'd tried to hide what was going on internally before Shiro had stepped in, but as it turned out, everything was nearing its boiling point. Keith was, at the end of the day, still part human, and he could only deal with so much.

He really wished otherwise, though. 

"Jesus Christ," Keith laughed, his voice thick and heavy. He looked down between them, fingers trembling as they curled into Shiro's new jacket. "God, I..."

"Shh, Keith..." The air waxed thick between them, their little atmosphere growing oppressive. There was still so much left unsaid between them, and in this quiet solitude it all coalesced together into something beastly. Keith could see from the corner of his eye Shiro's expression, working around concerned worry and internal conflict. Comfort was at the tip of his tongue, but like Keith, he seemed to be at a loss for what to say.

Keith trembled underneath the sudden weight bearing down on his shoulders and spine. He fought the urge to succumb and fall to his knees, collapsing instead onto Shiro's chest. 

"I, I...I knew," he started, his voice a crude mock-up of husked grief and self-deprecating punishment. "I should have...I shouldn't have tried so hard to find him, when I should have been looking for you...the _real_ you."

Shiro shook his head. Keith felt Shiro's arm tighten around his shoulders, and there was a vulnerable cut to the air that seemed to linger. "If you hadn't found him, I wouldn't be here now," he murmured, rocking Keith back and forth in his embrace. With one arm, Keith noted it wasn't as strong. It was something, though, and he leaned into it with shame and a desperation for comfort. "I wouldn't have a body. I wouldn't be able to hold you like this..."

Keith froze. He sucked a sharp, snot-riddled breath into his lungs once he realized he wasn't breathing, and he attempted to ground himself. 

It worked, briefly. 

Keith crumbled again, eyes fixed on Shiro's chest, to the spot right next to his lover's heart. "You died," he whispered, because those damn words had been on replay ever since Keith had heard them. 

"I should...I should have taken Black, when you wanted me to. That should have been me. Not you. Anyone but you, god, _Shiro..._ "

Shiro shifted, turning his head to the side. There was a hesitant nature to the way he moved now, like he was flipping through the cards of emotions in his head and debating which one to read from. He was slow and calculated with the way he moved, and he licked his lips. 

Gently, Shiro pushed himself away just a few inches, enough that he could gaze down (and not so far down anymore, not at all) into Keith's teary, stressed face. Keith watched Shiro bite his lip, his eyes gone stormy with deep, pained empathy...

But it wasn't enough to deter him from taking Keith's cheek and guiding him into a kiss, his thumb gently tracing the scar he'd so cruelly left there with his own hand.

God, he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about anything.

Keith's heart felt like a dying star. So warm and swollen, with inevitable demise at its end. The tears he'd fought finally flowed free, and Keith let the dam crumble as he frantically wrapped his arms around Shiro's neck. 

"I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, yet unwilling to pull back from the kiss. "G-god, I'm sorry..."

"Shh, baby," Shiro whispered against Keith's trembling lips, his own soothingly massaging Keith's. Shiro was audibly fighting the tension in his voice, that strained rubber band that threatened to snap at any moment. "I should be the one apologizing. God, Keith, I messed up. I really, really messed up."

Keith was pretty sure the hot, wet feeling on his cheeks wasn't just from his own tears alone anymore.

He turned his face, shamefully hiding it in Shiro's neck. "You've done nothing wrong," he argued, still standing his ground on that particular hill he was willing to die on. He shook his head, insistent, his fingers curling like iron hooks into the fabric of Shiro's new jacket. "God, you died, and I...I chased after a delusion, just because I didn't want to face the fact that you had..." He couldn't even say the word anymore without choking on it and its proven implications. 

Shiro frowned, and there was a new sort of resilience that seemed to form in the ligaments of his fingers. They rubbed at Keith's neck gently, and he tried his best to ignore their own subtle, unsure trembling. 

"You don't have to feel ashamed for needing me," Shiro insisted, clutching Keith's head close to his chest, to his heart, where he'd be able to hear it loud and clear. "And he's not...he wasn't a delusion. He was me, just as he still is now. And he's somebody everyone needed. Especially me."

Keith still trembled. Every nerve in his body thrummed with an energy that set his heart into palpitating fits, and he pressed himself closer to Shiro, practically crushing them together. "I knew," he whispered, over and over again. "I should have told them. I should have told myself. I should have told him. God, I..." 

Keith finally bit his next words in two and swallowed them whole. Anything else he might have wanted to say was lost at the back of his constricting throat and whirling mind. He knew. He knew he knew he _knew._

Shiro shook his head and continued rocking Keith back and forth, the motions letting Keith listen to his heartbeat, a quiet assurance that he was there, healthy and whole, and going nowhere. Keith leaned into it, into the determined self-awareness that Shiro subtly exuded. "Let go, Keith," he murmured, kissing the top of Keith's head and nosing into his hair. "It's okay to let go..."

Keith was just so exhausted. 

Despite everything, despite the Galran blood, he was only human in the end, and he collapsed underneath the weight of lingering expectations from home. He crashed to his knees, feeling like a child as he clutched the hem of Shiro's shirt in his shaking hands, tears blurring the sharp lines of visual reality to smeared, monochromatic watercolors. 

"Why is everything so...so hard," he laughed, a heavy, wet noise that offered no enthusiasm to the situation. Keith's shoulders shuddered violently and he sucked snot back loudly, his voice tiny among the motions of ugly, ugly crying. 

"I can't...I can't compartmentalize everything that's happened. You're here and so am I, yet you've died twice and I don't even know if any of this is real, and what if...and what if it's not? What if...what if you're really gone and this is it? I'll wake up one day and it's just..." Keith choked on his words, his bowed head crushing his throat and with it, anything more he could have said. Everything hurt, and it was a feeling that settled into the very marrow of his bones.

Shiro eased himself down to Keith's level, careful to maintain their balance as best he could with his center of gravity permanently shifted. Taking Keith in a one-armed embrace against his chest, Shiro did his best to support himself on his own quivering knees. He pressed into Keith, taking advantage of his stronger, steadier frame to lean against. "I'm here," he reassured Keith, the tone in his softening voice implying that Keith could cry there, tucked against his chest until they were both soaked, for as long as he needed to. "I know it might...might not mean much, but..."

Shiro's voice grew thick, and his grip tightened in Keith's jacket. Every word trembled, and Keith didn't need to look up to see that Shiro was probably on the edge himself. He was trying so hard to be there for Keith, to keep his composure like he'd always had. But Keith's secret talent was picking at old scars and renewing the stitches, and he knew what he was saying rang true to Shiro's own heart. Things weren't like they were before, and maybe it was time they'd stop kidding themselves before things ended terribly. 

Keith really hadn't meant to drag Shiro down to his level. He forced him into an embrace, one where the tables turned and he had Shiro's head tucked underneath his chin instead. 

"It means everything, Shiro," he whispered, squeezing his eyes against the fresh pour of tears splashing down his cheeks. He buried himself in Shiro's starlit hair, burrowing as close to his body as he could possibly get. "God, I hate saying it, because it just...it doesn't feel right, when it comes to you, but I love you, Shiro. I really fucking do.”

Shiro's warm tears leaked past the fabric of Keith's shirt, and he could feel the unstoppable onslaught against his neck and chest. Keith let him nuzzle closer anyway, his embrace winding tight around the man's shoulders. He could tell Shiro needed it, to get lost in Keith's warmth and his scent, in the new curves of his added inches. A different puzzle piece to their jagged picture, but one that seemed to work as well as it had before. 

"I love you too," Shiro murmured, muffled, followed by a wet little laugh. "And I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," Keith breathed, forcing the rhythm of his lungs to bottom out and steady itself. It was hard, and he still felt like he was absolutely drowning in the heaviness of it all, but he managed to regain and recompose himself. Just like Shiro had always taught him how, back in the day when it got to be too much. 

He sucked in one final, sharp breath, swallowing hard and painfully against his constricted throat. "I'm...I'm sorry. I shouldn't doubt you, or any of this. It's just..." 

He laughed, nervously. "I guess all I can ask is for you not to blame me for being a little confused after everything..."

"I'm still pretty confused myself," Shiro admitted, reluctantly pulling away from Keith to dry his eyes on the edge of his sleeve. Keith offered his instead, using the excuse to cradle the side of Shiro's face and wipe the tears away with his own thumb. 

"My head is a mess of conflicting memories and tangled emotions. Part of why I was glad to do the whole date thing again, honestly. A way to find our way back to normal..."

"God, I'm sorry," Keith laughed, a weak, defeated noise that smothered itself in a kiss pressed to Shiro's temple. He kept his lips secured to the soft, downy hairs there, fingertips idly scratching through the fabric of Shiro's shirt against his shoulder. "That's all you wanted, and then suddenly, I just..." 

Keith's hands still felt cold, his limbs numb, but things were getting better. Slowly. The world didn't feel like its imminent demise was upon them anymore, at least. 

"We _both_ just," Shiro corrected him, smiling as he brushed some of Keith's wettened hair away from his face, dabbing gently at his watering eyes. Poor Shiro; Keith knew he felt and probably looked terrible, but Shiro looked devastated. He needed a tissue pretty badly, too. "It's okay, Keith. We've both got a lot to work through right now and it's not the kind of thing that just solves itself. But I promise I'll be there with you every step of the way."

Keith's hands slid slowly to Shiro's shoulders. He held them tight, bowing his head with a subtle nod. "Yeah," he breathed, sucking as much air through his lungs as he possibly could. He forced himself to even the motions out once more before he snowballed into more panic, and it was with a moment to just breathe and relax in Shiro's presence that he finally calmed down. 

"Yeah," he repeated, lifting his head to offer Shiro the smallest of smiles. He knocked their foreheads together, his eyelids drifting shut. "I promise I'll be here, too," he murmured, his hands closing the distance between them in another embrace of Shiro's neck. "You deserve better. I won't leave. Never again, Shiro."

Keith felt Shiro hesitate, his shoulders growing tense. "Are you sure that's okay?” he asked, quietly, his unsure words treading a new tone in his voice. “The Blades...they need you, too, don't they? Especially at a moment like this, when so much is changing..." 

Every word felt like a bullet to Keith's gut. It was true, Keith had a duty to his own people just as Shiro and the other paladins had a duty to theirs on Earth. Keith couldn't just erase that now, not after everything he'd been through with the Blades and his mother. True, the Blade of Marmora had been functioning just fine without him this whole time, but if they ever needed him for another mission, he knew his talent would be indispensable.

"Not again," Keith muttered anyway, curling his fingers around Shiro's hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, bringing Shiro's knuckles to his lips. He pressed them to the blunted nubs, shaking his head to nuzzle further down the back of Shiro's hand. So soft and warm."I can't leave you again. And...and even if that wasn't you, per se, that Shiro, he...he was still so lonely. I can't do that to you again."

Keith felt Shiro relax, albeit the tiniest bit. He knew they were both thinking the same thing: how Kolivan would feel about it all, and especially with them traversing the galaxy back to their home. But, for as long as it remained to be seen, they didn't stand anything to gain by speculating. The most important thing they could do was prepare for their next mission, and that meant getting everything they wanted to do settled before returning to Earth. 

Including a certain date. 

"Thank you," Shiro murmured, moving to stroke Keith's bottom lip with the backs of his fingers. "You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that. I feel so selfish..."

"If wanting to just be together is considered selfish, then we're two of the most awful, terrible people in the universe," Keith laughed, falling against Shiro's shoulder with the intent to stay there. He was exhausted, and didn't really care for the minute details. All he cared about was the other, and tilting his head up to press another kiss to his soft mouth. "I'll always be here for you, Shiro. As many times as it takes." 

Keith felt the smile form against his lips as he said those words. He knew this Shiro hadn't had the chance to hear them himself, but the other Shiro had, and he could only hope the memory remained as strongly in there as it had in Keith's own mind. The warmth, the love in that moment... 

"Thank you," Shiro murmured, seeming to get the memo as he squeezed Keith close with a strong grip around his lower back. Even with one arm, the embrace was still as strong as it ever could have been, and as long as they could continue to hold and be held by each other, Keith was more than content with them as they were. 

"Thank you so much..."


End file.
